Just This Side of Okay
by ColorMeContented
Summary: Oregon State circa 1941. As the Great Depression rages across the country two good 'ol American boys, Sam and Dean Winchester, spend their third summer in the CCC work camp 'Z-zag'. There are new recruits coming this summer and while the boys expect their lives to change for their new co-workers they hardly expected their meager existence to be shaken so thoroughly.
1. Welcome to Hell

**Title: Just This Side of Okay**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the plot.**

**Rating: M because of stressful situations? Is that a thing? I just don't want kids reading this kind of angsty shit.**

**Warnings: AU, Fluff, booze, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress**

_AN: I got super bored in history class and wrote this but I'm no historian so I'll come right out and say that I may or may not have twisted some of the facts of life in the camps for the sake of the story. Sorry if you're sensitive about historical accuracy, please try to enjoy and review anyway!_

**Chapter One: Welcome to Hell**

Dark gray nimbostrati rolled lazily, low over the caravan of mud slathered busses of which the lorry occupied by one Castiel Novak was a part. Every few minutes or so the lighting would flash, illuminating his face. The shine glinted evilly off the glasses sitting low on his nose as he stared out the window and wondered how anyone could have decided that Oregon was a good place to set up home.

He winced at the sharp low growl of thunder and shut the neglected copy of _The Collected Short Stories_ by F. Scott Fitzgerald that rested in his lap; he'd read the same paragraph fourteen times but kept getting distracted.

It was night out, which perhaps may have not been so ominous had it not been raining and thundering and had the bus not gotten stuck in the mud a few miles back and the boys had to dig it out. Castiel had thought his shoes would never dry but as he wiggled his toes in his socks he smiled slightly to himself, glad that he'd managed to snag the only seat next to the small heater.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the boy next to him. The guy looked like he was twelve and was covered head to toe in slowly drying mud, curled on his side and with his thin jacket draped over his shoulders. Castiel glanced at his own rich coat strewn haphazardly on the floor and sighed. He plucked it up and tossed it on the other boy who simply grunted a thanks in his fatigue induced slumber. Castiel's coat would get muddy but his seatmate was wet and cold and had no means by which to warm himself.

Castiel leaned his elbows on the windowsill and his head on his hand, '_better to set up a good reputation right off the bat'_, he thought.

The boys on these busses had nothing, except maybe a family of too many people and not enough money to support it. Not all of them were runaways like he was but the Civilian Conservation Corps hadn't cared, where he was going no one cared about your past so long as you got along with your co-workers and did what you were told.

President Roosevelt had instituted the CCC as a part of his "New Deal for the People" in order to end the Depression and pump money back into the economy and Castiel had to agree that it was a damn good idea. Hundreds of thousands of boys (and some girls) across the country flocked to CCC camps to work with the promise of thirty dollars a month and three square meals a day hanging over their heads. The boys built bridges and trails, planted trees and fought fires, Castiel had laughed when he first heard the CCC boys referred to as Roosevelt's tree army.

Castiel jumped slightly as lighting struck the earth not a mile away immediately chased by another bout of thunder. The boy next to him shot up in his seat, throwing both jackets off his body. He was skinny as a rail, pale as shit, and tall with a long nose and nerdy features, he definitely didn't belong in a work camp.

The boy glanced around a moment before he noticed Castiel watching him. He grinned though the mud slathered on his face and held up the other boy's coat. Cas took the coat and the guy extended to him his hand.

"Hey thanks for the cover man, I can't tell ya how many times I damn near froze to death on one-o-these busses. I swear they think we're made'a steel or somethin' I bet if 'ol Roosevelt heard 'bout all these bad conditions he'd be right hoppin' mad. I'm Garth by the way, how'dya do?"

Castiel put on an amiable grin and took the boy's hand, "Castiel Novak, how old are you Garth?" the boy's grin faltered a moment and he glanced over his shoulder. He removed his hand from Castiel's grip and covered his mouth a bit and leaned in so he could whisper.

"Don't go 'round tellin' on me ta ev'ryone okay? I'm only fifteen but ma folks got too many kids ta feed 'n I'm the only boy. Ran away ta help ma sisters 'n my ma 'n pa, gotta keep the farm. We been share croppin' in Oklahoma since my grandpa was my age…" he trailed off with a sad look in his eye before his eyes met Castiel's and he pepped right back up. "What's yer story then?"

Castiel smiled in earnest at his new friend, not bothered all that much that he couldn't get a word in edgewise. He didn't much enjoy talking anyway. He was glad to have met this guy who was a year younger than the enrolment age and would obviously do anything for his sisters and parents. He only wished that his family were the same way.

"I'm eighteen and don't worry, as far as I'm concerned you're old enough to be here. My parents were big time bankers on Wall Street when the market crashed and we lost everything. I'm just here to put food on the table for my little sister Anna." He smiled through the half-truth as the bus jerkily slowed to a stop. Castiel squeaked as Garth practically crawled over him to see out the window, Castiel looked past his new friend to see just what all the commotion was about.

Everything was soaking wet and a mix of forest green and muddy reddish brown. The other busses had already began to drop off the boys who marched in orderly single file lines beneath the large sign announcing that they had arrived at "Camp Z-zag," one of the CCC's many work camps. There were hundreds of old and new log cabins across the campus and Castiel could still see where others were soon to be erected. One large building in front and center bore the title "Mess Hall" and Castiel vaguely wondered how such a mediocre building could accommodate all the workers.

"It's beautiful!" Garth exclaimed as he leapt from his seat, dragging Castiel with him. Cas felt a pang of guilt in his gut at hearing that this mud hole was a thing of beauty to his dustbowl dwelling workmate, he could only imagine what home looked like.

The bus doors opened and the other boys began filing out only the mud slicked road. Castiel glanced at the other boys, some of whom were missing articles of clothing, and realized that he was the only one there who actually had luggage. Lightning flashed again as Cas settled in a like with an excited Garth bouncing up and down behind him. The dim light allowed him the opportunity to see many of the officers patrolling the lines and a small ditch off to the right were six or seven boys worked feverishly to saw a log in half, two manned the saw, four moved the already severed stumps and one stood on a bit of a ledge, flailing his arms and shouting orders.

They looked so in control, such pride and purpose in their work, Cas thought, there wasn't a bit of uncertainty about them as they trudged through mud and muck like it was nothing, muscles straining against the resistance of the saw and weight of the fallen tree and the leader… Cas suddenly decided he was the best part of the scene, his men didn't question a word he said and with complete trust carried out their orders. It didn't hurt that he was damn easy on the eyes either.

"Oh, sorry." Cas mumbled, the line had moved forward a bit and he with it but hadn't noticed them stop, causing him to collide harshly with the back of the guy in front of him. The guy – lithe and wiry though he was – whirled angrily around and stooped down to Castiel's height with a sneer.

"Watch where the hell you're going next time, eh fucker?" Castiel raised an eyebrow at this, not used to being addressed with such profane language. Unfortunately that's not how the guy took it. His hand launched out to bunch in the collar of Castiel's faded blue polo, jerking him forward so hard that Cas' glasses nearly flew from his face and he was sure he'd gotten whiplash.

"You think I'm trying to be funny kid?" the boy lisped slowly, perhaps Cas would have laughed had he not been about to get his ass handed to him.

"Oi, leave 'im alone dude, he said he was sorry." Garth stepped forward and placed a hand on the guy's arm, causing him to let go of Cas' shirt, "Just put 'im down man, we're only here to work." Castiel shot Garth a silent 'thank you' as the guy backed up. He nudged the guy in front of him in line and sneered again.

"Can you believe this Zach? These pipsqueaks think they can just get away with bumping into people around here whenever the fuck they want."

Cas' eyes widened behind his glasses as who he'd assumed to be Zach turned around. He towered over all three of them and was twice as large.

"Is that so?" Zach grinned and raised his bearlike fists, popping his knuckles in anticipation, "Waddaya say we teach 'em a lesson then?"

"My thoughts exactly."

The guy with the lisp raised his fist and brought it down hard. Cas didn't even have the chance to react before Garth was in front of him, taking the blow and stumbling back, clutching his bleeding nose.

Castiel thrust his arms out, catching his fumbling friend. He checked Garth's nose, finding it unbroken, before throwing his own fist. It collided with lisp's chest and left no impact whatsoever. Castiel recoiled in horror as the guy began to laugh hysterically, clutching his stomach and throwing his head back. Cas pushed up his glasses nervously and shoved Garth behind him, preparing to take his beating with dignity. Why the hell did he even try?

"Damn!" lisp chortled to Zach, "It's not gonna be any fun beating the shit out of this guy at all." He grabbed Cas' shirt again and cocked his arm back for another blow, "But that don't mean I won't try!"

"Hey you two, no fightin' in line!"

Castiel hadn't realized that his eyes were closed and opened them to see a gruff looking old man with a cap on his head jogging over to them. Lisp immediately released his collar, hissing vulgarities through his teeth, obviously pissed that he'd been caught.

The old man stopped in front of them, glaring angrily at both Castiel and lisp. Castiel had since forced Garth to tilt his head back and pressed his own jacket to the wound which was apparently the sign of a good kid because the old man turned to lisp with a slight growl.

"What's yer name boy?" he demanded.

"Alistair." Cas could have laughed at how small the bully sounded when confronted with authority.

The old man jabbed a pudgy finger in his face, "We don't tolerate shitheads like you here son. You'd best clean up yer act or you'll be on the first bus outta here."

"Yes sir." Alistair mumbled, hanging his head and glaring out of the corner of his eye at Castiel.

The old man turned to Cas and Garth. "Names." He barked.

"Garth Fitzgerald the fourth."

"Castiel Novak."

The corners of the old man's eyes crinkled as he smiled, "Well Castiel and Garth I think it best we get you two to the nurse," he turned over his shoulder and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Dean!"

Immediately the leader of the group of lumberjacks Cas was watching earlier abandoned his work and scrambled up the hill. He grinned past the mud covering his entire body. Castiel suddenly noticed that, though it was below fifty degrees out, he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"What's up Bobby?" he asked as he trotted up rubbing water out of the greenest eyes Castiel had ever seen and flashing a smile that damn near knocked Castiel on his ass.

"I want ya to take these recruits over to first aid and patch up the funny lookin' one." He jacked his thumb over his shoulder at a small house with a sign on the door that read 'medic,' "'n give four eyes here a cookie for bein' fool enough to punch that other guy 'n not getting' himself killed."

Dean let out a snort laugh at this and placed a hand on Garth's shoulder, guiding both he and Castiel away from the line. When they were far enough away that Bobby could no longer hear them Castiel looked up at their guide, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

"Won't we get to check in?" he asked. Cas may have taken a bit longer than warranted in watching the small smile grow on Dean's lips.

"Don't worry about it man, Bobby'll take care of it. He's not one to let any of us fall behind ya know?"

Castiel nodded as though he did know as the trio arrived at the medical house. Dean wrenched the door open to let them in, the house had settled in such a way that the door dragged across the front step when it swung outwards.

Garth mumbled a quiet 'thanks man' as Cas helped him onto the raised bench meant for patients as Dean rummaged around in the drawers hunting for supplies.

Once again Cas wondered how a single first aid house could accommodate so many people.

"People don't get hurt much here, not seriously anyway." Dean said over his shoulder in answer to Castiel's unstated question. He emerged from the myriad drawers with a triumphant 'ah-ha' when he finally found the tape he was looking for. He took a seat on the stool in front of Garth, removing Castiel's coat from his face and beginning to patch up his nose.

"So who are you guys anyway?" Dean asked suddenly. Cas looked over at him with an eyebrow raised before he remembered that it was that particular expression that had gotten him in trouble in the first place. He settled on a frown.

Under any other circumstance and coming from anyone else he may have thought the question rude but Castiel simply shrugged.

"I'm Castiel and that," he said as he nodded towards his friend, "is Garth."

"You from the same town or something?" Dean probed as he slapped Garth's hand, discouraging the boy from rubbing at his injury.

Castiel shook his head, "No I'm from New York, we met on the bus and then I decided to pick a fight with some bruiser and this guy just stepped right up to get punched in the face. I guess that makes us friends now."

Dean laughed at that as he laid the last bandage on Garth's nose before standing and crossing the room to peer at a wall covered in lists and other various documents.

"NYC huh? Where you from?" he asked Garth.

"Oaklahoma." The boy choked through the tissues plugging his nose.

"Ah, dustbowl, that's harsh man. I'm from Kansas myself," he removed a few leaflets from the wall, obviously looking for something, Castiel could only guess what, "My brother and I came up here for the work you know, got a family to support back home."

Castiel's stomach dropped suddenly and he fought hard to keep the shock from his face. It was bad enough that he was a runaway and had already made an enemy at the camp; he didn't need to broadcast his homosexuality to the whole camp. They'd kill him.

Despite his supposed caution Castiel shrugged, "Too many kids huh?"

Dean's head snapped to the side to look at Castiel, first looking shocked but that expression melted quickly into a crinkle eyed grin that slightly reminded Castiel of Bobby.

"No way, I'm only twenty, dude. I got a mom a dad and a baby brother hurting for food, I figured what the hell, they give us thirty a month and we keep five right? That's fifty dollars a month for my folks plus work for me and Sam and as many night school courses as I can stomach." He shrugged, "it was the best deal we'd seen in our lives – ah, there it is!"

Dean snatched one paper from the wall and turned to face Garth and Castiel who was still recovering from the amount of personal information Dean had just slapped him with.

Dean's eyes scanned the paper as he excitedly read from it. "Castiel Novak and Garth Fitzgerald the fourth, cabin five thirty-one." He looked up at the other boys and grinned, "You two lucky bastards are roomin' with me!"

Castiel smiled politely despite the rational voice in the back of his head jumping up and down and telling him to high tail it the hell outta there before he did something stupid.

"That's great Dean." He said.

Well fuck.


	2. Make Yourselves at Home

**Title: Just This Side of Okay**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the plot.**

**Rating: M because of stressful situations? Is that a thing? I just don't want kids reading this kind of angsty shit. Oh, and violence.**

**Warnings: AU, Fluff, booze, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress**

_AU: I preach love, peace, and acceptance and urge you to do the same! I do not condone the derogatory word 'fag' in fact, I despise it, and so I apologize if it offends anyone, it is simply a plot device. Review please!_

**Chapter 2: Make Yourselves at Home**

Dean threw his arms wide open at the dingy foul-smelling barracks in front of him and smiled.

"Great isn't it?"

While it is true that Castiel had gaped in awe at the setup it was most definitely _not_ because he liked it.

The mattresses were six inches thick and a musty green color that Castiel would rather not think too hard about. The lights were dirty and dim and though the place seemed impeccably clean to the naked eye Castiel felt certain that if he ever stepped bare footed on the wood floor he'd be picking splinters out of his feet for weeks.

Cas pointed towards one of the many two-man bunk beds pressed up against the walls.

"I get a _bunk_?"

Once again Dean took Castiel's dismay for awe. He nodded erratically.

"Yup! We got a full house now that you two showed up. Besides you, me and Garth we got Benny, Sam, and Gabe." Dean flashed Castiel a mirthful smile, "You'll be my bottom bunk and Garth'll be Benny's top bunk."

Castiel nodded solemnly, forcing the flush threatening to overtake him to keep the hell away from his face. He sauntered over to his bunk and sat down, hating the way it felt like he was sitting on a brick.

Dean put a finger to his lips in thought a moment, "What do you need to know that the officers would have told ya? Right, lights out's ten, rise at six, hospital corners on yer bed, work hard, don't talk back, Bobby'll be your best friend in a week if yer a smoker, I think that's all?"

Across the room Garth opened his mouth to ask a question when the door slammed open and three other men drenched in water, sweat and covered in mud piled in.

The tallest one ran a hand through his long hair and shook a bit of mud from his body, a glob of which landed on Castiel's glasses.

"Dude, Dean, where'd you go? It took forever after you left." The other two nodded in agreement. Castiel noticed how Dean's face lit up when the other man had entered the room.

"Calm down Sammy, Bobby needed me to patch up a few of the new recruits 'n get 'em settled in." he turned to Cas and Garth. "Cas, Garth, these guys are Sam, Benny and Gabe. Tall, southern and blonde, in that order."

Garth simply nodded and Castiel replied with a polite 'hello' as the ring of a bell resounded through the camp. Immediately the boys who'd been working began to strip off their clothes which wouldn't have been a problem for Castiel if it were a dream, but it wasn't. He gawked a moment before tearing his eyes from the men furiously scraping the filth from their bodies.

"What's going on?!" he demanded over the hustle only to get his answer in the form of a suit and tie being shoved in his face by Sam.

"You better put that on kid," he said kindly, "the officers get real pissed if you don't wear a tie to dinner."

Castiel ignored the fact that he was obviously a few years older than Sam who'd just called him a child and slipped into the suit. It was a bit big on him considering that he had to borrow Sam's spare. He and Garth would have to go to the supply house and get their army surplus uniforms and suits later in the week. He managed to get it on though he fumbled with the light blue tie until Dean took the time to help him fix it.

Was it just Castiel's imagination or did Dean keep staring at his lips?

The bell rang again and the six of them shuffled out of their cabin past hundreds of others on a lightly graveled road towards the mess hall. Though throngs of other boys flowed out of doors to form one immense crowd the six bunk mates stuck close together.

"Hot damn!" Garth exclaimed when he came face to face with the buffet table. "I never seen this much grub in ma whole life!"

Benny patted a hand on his shoulder, "It gets less overwhelming over time brother." He said cordially.

"Wow," Castiel said, also struck by the sheer quantity of foods laid before him, "the last time I saw this much food was… at the soup kitchen in New York." Dean may or may not have raised an eyebrow at his pause though he didn't allude to catching Castiel in his lie. In all honesty the last time he'd seen so much food had been the last day he was at home before he ran away.

"Well what the hell are you waiting fer?" Dean asked, clapping a hand on Castiel's back, "Dig in!"

If Castiel got one of everything then the other boys got two. There was barely enough space to put their arms on the table whatwith all the plates of everything ranging from apples to ravioli to zucchini.

Dean, who sat across from Castiel, groaned around a particularly large slice of meatloaf. "It just gets better and better every day!" he cried. Gabriel laughed and launched a pea at Dean with his spoon, effectively lodging the squishy green projectile in Dean's collar. This prompted a small scale food fight. Garth was talking adamantly with Benny and Sam was reading a tattered history book. _Probably in a night course,_ Castiel thought.

His eyes scanned the room around him observing the mob of boys laughing and talking as well as the officers table where he recognized Bobby talking quietly with a posh looking brunette man in a suit.

A shudder crawled suddenly up his spine as Castiel detected someone's eyes on him. He glanced to the left and stopped upon locking eyes with two murderous pale blue orbs.

Alistair was staring him down and it wasn't the kind of stare that assured Cas that he was going to get laid later. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and turned back to his table as Zach joined in the threatening looks.

"Don't worry about them," Sam piped over his book, he glanced at Cas then back at the pages, "if they don't know not to mess with five thirty-one now they will sooner or later. Dean, Gabe, Benny and I, we protect our own and if that doesn't work we'll have uncle throw his weight around a bit."

_Uncle?_ It suddenly clicked in his mind why Dean had reminded him of Bobby earlier, the officer was Dean and Sam's uncle.

"Thanks Sam." He looked down at his plate to keep his forlorn look from his new friends. Hadn't even known the guys for two hours and they already treated him like a part of the family.

Castiel yawned and collapsed onto his bed, the other boys were off showering and Castiel had returned from the bath houses early. Now that he was dead tired his stone hard mattress felt like his feather soft hard back home. For a moment he wondered how his sister was faring without him, Anna always had disliked being left alone, and how his father was reacting to his absence. Castiel snorted and rolled over deciding that daddy probably threw a party after finding him gone.

He sat up when the cabin door creaked open and Garth came scurrying in. he made a beeline for Cas' bed and threw his arms around his friend with an exasperated sigh that may or may not have been a poorly disguised sob.

"Garth, are you okay?" Castiel asked, his worry growing when Garth paused a moment before sitting back. He shook his head.

"I dunno man, I came up here thinkin' it wouldn't follow me but I'm thinkin' – damnit, I'm gross aren't I?" the boy sighed again and hung his head.

"What are you talking about?" Castiel placed a hand gingerly on Garth's shoulder, "You seem perfectly not gross to me."

Garth sniffled a bit and smiled at his friend, "Thanks Cas, you're a nice guy you know that? If I –" Garth took a deep breath before continuing, "If I tell you somethin' 'bout me can you promise you won't run off screamin' or rat me out or nothin'?"

Okay now Castiel was curious. He nodded.

"No, you gotta promise." Garth demanded. Castiel rolled his eyes.

"Alright, I promise I won't tell anyone and I won't act any differently, okay?"

Garth nodded, satisfied with Castiel's vow and beckoned for his friend to lean in closer, Castiel did and Garth cupped his hand around his mouth and glanced behind him.

"I'm gay and… and I think I got a crush on that Benny guy." He finally whispered.

For a second or two Castiel just stared at the terrified look on his friend's face before erupting in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. He peeled his glasses from his face to clean the happy tear stains from them as he finished laughing.

"Garth –"

"Don't kill me!" the boy shrieked, throwing his arms up in defense.

"Who are we killing?" asked Dean as he and the others walked in. Garth sputtered something inaudible and Cas simply smiled.

"No one really, Garth was telling me that LaVerne Sophia of _The Andrews Sisters_ is his "special lady" and I was telling him that while _I feel the same_ about the group I much prefer Maxine Angelyn." He sent a discreet wink at Garth and relief washed over the boy's face as their bunkmates accepted Cas' story and settled in for bed.

Dean shrugged, "Whatever man, I fancy Martha Boswell myself." He climbed over Cas' head to his bunk and flopped back on the mattress with a grunt, letting his leg dangle off the side of the bedframe. "Hit the lights would ya Sammy?"

Sam barked something about no longer being a pudgy twelve year old and then the room was bathed in inky darkness.

Cas could only smile as his consciousness dimmed and he fell asleep.

"Sam!" Dean whispered harshly. He'd rolled onto his stomach and leaned over the side of his bed to look across the aisle at Sam who groaned as he woke up and untangled himself from the sheets.

"What the hell man? It's the middle of the night, why are you awake?" Said Sam as he poked his head out into the cool night air.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Well I could!" Sam hissed, "look man, you know tomorrow's gonna be rough, why are you up?" his expression softened when his brother didn't answer him right away.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean smiled sourly and swung his legs over the side of the bed, climbing down past Castiel's bunk carefully so as to not wake him. Sam sat up, giving his brother a questioning look.

"Take a walk with me Sammy." Sam sighed and leapt from his bunk a little less gracefully than his brother had and followed Dean outside.

After lights out the only place the boys could go were the restrooms, the closest to the Winchesters' barrack was right next door but the brothers opted to cross the camp in order to buy more time alone. Once they were far enough away from the other houses Dean deflated. His shoulders hunched over and his feet dragged lazily through the mud.

"I'm in trouble man," he said, finally sitting on a fallen log on the edge of the path. "I know I promised Dad if he sent us up here I'd keep a hold on myself but it's so damn hard."

Sam went rigid, immediately knowing what his brother was talking about.

"Who?" he demanded.

Dean smiled down at his hands, "Cas."

"Damnit." Sam muttered. It wasn't that he had a problem with his brother's sexuality; Sam was an oddity in that way. He just wished his brother could be happy.

A certain rage burbled up in Sam's gut though not anger at Dean for being different or at Castiel for being the object of his affections but at society. As a boy he heard their father's friends telling stories about 'that old pair-o-fags that ain't there no more.' A kind couple of men who had lived on the outskirts of Lawrence Kansas and who always treated Sam and Dean with candy whenever their paths crossed had been killed by the townsfolk for no reason other than that they would rather be with each other than a woman. It made Sam sick with anger and fear causing him to prompt Dean to carefully school his wandering eyes.

Sam sat next to his brother on the log and wrapped a protective arm around his shoulder.

"There's no way I can ever understand what you're going through Dean, but the way I see it you've got three options here: talk to him and figure this thing out, ignore it until we can go home and get married to some girl, or go home –"

"No!" Dean barked, "I can't go home… I promised Dad." He sighed and shrugged, "You'd think I'd be able to just avoid the guy and keep my head in my work but I just can't man. He's just – sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable Sam – he's gorgeous, I'm sure he could be to me what Jess is to you and I've only known him a day."

Sam's eyes widened at his brother's impromptu confession.

"Dean, I had no idea."

"Fortunately we did." Dean's head shot up, a look of astute horror on his face as Gabriel and Benny came trotting down the path towards them.

"You know?!" Dean gasped and scooted a bit closer to his brother, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

"We didn't know before," Benny said with a smile and a comfortable creole drawl, "but the way you look at that boy there's no mistakin' it brother. You're gone."

"But we don't think anyone else's noticed." Gabriel said around the lollipop in his mouth, yet another piece of contraband Bobby handed out on a regular basis. He clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder, "Just be careful Dean-o, we can only protect you from so much."

"Right." Dean took in a shaky breath, forcing down a vicious panic attack, "be careful…"

"And it just so happens," Gabriel chimed happily, "that the big galoot here bats for the same team," he nodded towards Benny who smiled sheepishly, "and he's pretty sure four eyes is givin' you the same looks."

Dean looked to Benny hopefully. The Louisiana man nodded and smiled. Dean leapt from his seat, pumping his fist in the air.

"I'll talk to him first thing tomorrow!"


	3. Heaven was Made in Hell

**Title: Just This Side of Okay**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the plot.**

**Rating: M because of stressful situations? Is that a thing? I just don't want kids reading this kind of angsty shit. Oh, and violence.**

**Warnings: AU, Fluff, booze, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress**

_AN: most of this chapter was written while listening to "ask the lonely" by Journey. TOTAL inspiration boost! Please enjoy and review!_

**Chapter Three: Heaven was Made in Hell**

"What?" Castiel asked for the third time that morning as he pulled up his socks. Dean was staring at him, again, which may not have been so weird had he not been bombarded with what could only be construed as sexual tension since he'd woken up.

"Nothing." Dean said, finally turning and retreating to where his brother and Benny sat talking. Castiel Scowled.

"What's his problem?" he muttered to no one in particular.

"I think he likes you." Garth smiled across the aisle at Cas.

"Don't be ridiculous." Castiel hissed, "That guy's the picture of masculinity, what would he want with me?"

Garth simply shrugged as he finished fluffing his hair only for it to flop lifelessly back on his head, "I dunno, ma daddy told me once some guys over compensate or whatever because they don't wanna face it, but guys like me ain't got that choice, I ain't no macho."

Castiel shrugged and threw a glance over his shoulder at Dean. "Yea well I won't be putting too much stock in that idea until he's told me himself –_if_ he has anything to tell." Cas stood up, signaling the end of the conversation and followed the other boys to the mess hall as the bell began to ring.

Breakfast and bunk inspection went off without a hitch. Bobby, who, oddly enough, was the five hundred block officer as well as the boys' uncle, had congratulated Cas on his bed making skill before kicking them out to the field to work. And it was back breaking. Barracks tended to work together which would explain why his new bunkmates were close enough to be brothers and the first place they went that day was the site the boys had been working on the previous day: the building of fifteen new cabins to the side of the front gate.

Castiel wanted to collapse, his muscles burned from lifting large chunks of wood and his lungs struggled to take in the breath he needed to keep him conscious. He might have sat down for a break if he wasn't so sure he'd be yelled at right off the bat, besides, no one else had sat down. Cas picked up another round of wood and dragged it to the pile. He smiled as he noticed Benny taking a particularly heavy log from Garth and moving it for him.

He grunted as he hoisted the log on the pile, he dragged the back of his arm across his face to remove the thin sheen of perspiration before wandering back over to Sam and Gabriel who'd sawed off another large portion of the fallen tree.

"Hey Cas, you wanna help me out a bit?" Castiel looked up the small embankment on which Dean stood surveying the others' work. Castiel scrambled up the hill which was still slick with the drying mud of the previous day to stand at Dean's side. The older man smiled at him and pointed across the work area. "I gotta run get some new tools for the guys, too many for one man. You wanna give me a hand?"

Castiel shrugged, "Sure," and he and Dean took off after Benny was put in charge of the operation. Dean nodded to Bobby as they passed and received merely a grunt in reply.

Dean led the way through the small work groups to the tool shed, opening the door for Cas to step inside. Castiel immediately began picking up saws and axes and tool belts only stopping when he noticed that Dean wasn't doing the same.

"Dean, why aren't you –"

"We need to talk Cas." The desperation in Dean's voice kept him from chastising the boy for being rude.

"Wha – why?" Cas stuttered, made nervous by Dean's serious expression and the fact that Dean had crossed the room to effectively invade his personal space. Cas pushed up his glasses to hide a shudder. He couldn't possibly have found out that Cas didn't swing it with girls, he was always so careful, he couldn't have slipped up so soon after arriving. He held his breath.

"I'm only tellin' you this 'cause you're in my cabin, if you think spreadin' this around is goinna gain you some power around here my brother an' I'll beat the shit outta you before you can open your mouth."

Cas nodded gravely, not quite sure what he'd just agreed to as Dean reached out slowly with measured care and grasped his shoulders. Desperation and fear swirled in his eyes and he stared into Castiel's own blue orbs, gauging his reaction.

"I can have Bobby move you to a different cabin if you're uncomfortable about it."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Spit it out already Dean." He intoned.

Dean took in a deep, shaky, breath. The only people he'd told were his mother and little brother. Everyone else who knew, Bobby, his dad and their cabin mates, had just sort of found out.

He fought to look Castiel in the eye.

"I'm gay Cas."

For one long terrible moment Castiel just looked at him, amusement dancing in his eyes before he threw his head back and laughed. Cas stumbled back out of Dean's grasp and had to sit down for the laughter wracking his body caused his stomach to ache.

He couldn't believe Garth had been right.

Dean took a step back, not quite sure what to do with Castiel's reaction and prepared to run if Cas started making a racket.

Once he'd finally calmed down Castiel pushed himself up out of the chair and crossed the room in three steps until he was nose to nose with Dean.

"C-Cas?" Dean wasn't able to say much else when Castiel's lips crashed into his. Dean yelped as his top lip was clipped by his and Cas' lips.

Castiel chuckled and swiped his tongue over the wound apologetically, giving one last lick to Dean's lips before pulling away. The smaller man grinned and turned his back to Dean, gathering the tools he'd put down.

It took the coppery taste of blood filling Dean's mouth for him to realize that he'd been kissed. He wiped at the wound, smudging blood across his face as he watched Cas with bugged eyes. The guy was prancing around with that lithe body like nothing had happened.

"What was that?" Dean asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"That was a counter to your previous statement." Cas winked at Dean from behind his glasses and tossed him an axe, "Think fast Winchester, we should get going or the others'll think something's wrong."

Dean could only smile as he followed Castiel back to the work site where he received a curious look from his brother and gave a thumbs up in return.

It was okay. Dean wouldn't have to leave; they wouldn't have to worry about keeping Castiel quiet and the greatest occurrence of the day: Cas had _kissed_ him!

While Dean worked he felt like singing, even coming as close as humming as he hacked an old stump to pieces. Dam if he wasn't walking on air!

The workday went by fast and soon enough Sam and Benny had returned their tools to the shed and the group was headed back to their cabin joking and laughing jovially with each other when they heard someone speak up behind them in the cool Oregon twilight.

"Hey fags!" someone yelled.

Dean tensed up immediately, whirling around to see Alistair, Zach and some big African guy standing in the path.

Castiel sighed before any of his bunk mates could start a fight.

"What do you want Alistair, we're tired enough without having to stomach your presence."

Alistair shrugged off Castiel's insult and shrugged, "I just wanted to ask Winchester a question," Sam took a step forward but Alistair waved him away, "Not you, the other one."

Cas glanced out of the corner of his eye at Dean who was completely still. A look of pure terror adorned his face.

_Well, I guess he hasn't been doing this very long,_ thought Cas as he hoped Dean wouldn't get his cover blown or play into Alistair's tricks.

Much to Cas relief Dean suddenly puffed up and steeled his gaze, "Then ask it douchenozzle!" he barked.

The authoritative tone in Dean's voice sent a shiver down Castiel's spine.

Alistair smirked and pointed to Dean's face.

"I was just wondering how you hurt your lip there. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were mackin' on some broad and she bit ya, but that couldn't be it," Alistair's smarmy smile grew, "'cause there ain't no women around."

Castiel saw Dean seize up again; he could practically hear Dean wondering if they saw. He was going to have to smooth this thing over fast.

"I smashed his bitch face in with a shovel, what about it?"

Alistair squinted at Cas then Dean, looking for some sort of gab in their armor, but something in the way Cas frowned, how his jaw was set. He was channeling the truth. He radiated it.

Snarling, Alistair took the towel hanging off Zach's shoulders and flung it at Dean who caught it easily.

"You be careful Winchester, ain't no one want the great and fearless Senior Leader of five hundred block gettin' hurt."

Then the three walked away and cabin five thirty-one was alone again.

"Holy shit," Garth whispered, wonder and awe in his voice, "How'd you do that?"

Cas smiled and let the tension drop from his shoulders. He patted Garth on the back.

"Years of practice kid, that's an unfortunate skill you'll eventually have too."

"Wait," Benny interrupted, looking to Garth, "You're gay too?"

"Well damn! That's the whole cabin," Gabriel interjected, "'cept Sammy, he's got a girlfriend."

"She's hardly a girlfriend," a pink tint colored Sam's cheeks, "I don't see her but once a month now."

Sam looked between his brother and Castiel, "You guys care to tell us what the hell that was about anyway?" Castiel could see the obvious amusement on Sam's face as Dean squirmed under the weight of the question. It looked like he was going to have to save Dean. Again.

"I kissed Dean in the tool shed this afternoon and Alistair and his cronies noticed the blood on his face, since we're in the mood for the truth right now. Either they are a very perceptive group of young men or they saw Dean and me."

Castiel shrugged and Dean practically twitched out.

Sam laughed as he and the rest of the group started down the path again, needing to arrive back at the cabin before curfew.

"Dude, Dean, calm down, we all know already. You don't need to worry so much anymore!" Sam moved between Dean and Castiel and threw his long arms over their shoulders, "This couldn't have worked out any better!"

His booming laughter bounced off the trees as the brothers made their way home for the night, Dean and Cas smiled at each other, Benny walked a little closer to Garth, and Gabriel threw sidelong glances at Sam.

As Castiel peeled his muddy clothes off for bed he tried not to think of the sculpted man in the bunk above him. Wait. Why was he trying not to? Dean had already come out to him, shown his interest, so why the hell not?

Castiel settled in for bed with a smile on his face and thoughts of Dean in his mind.


	4. Let's Paint the Town Red

**Title: Just This Side of Okay**

**Author: ColorMeContented**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the plot.**

**Rating: M because of stressful situations? Is that a thing? I just don't want kids reading this kind of angsty shit. Oh, and violence.**

**Warnings: AU, Fluff, booze, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress**

_AN: So… sorry for my potty mouth… enjoy and review!_

**Chapter Four: Let's Paint the Town Red**

Castiel was drowsy. Not because the past week had been burning hell on earth and not because Garth was on kitchen duty that morning and managed to spill _all_ the coffee, no, it was because he was up all night controlling his fantasies about one mister Dean Winchester.

Sure, after the day Dean came out to him he decided that it was okay to let his mind wander but after being shaken awake by Garth for the second night in a row because of his "nocturnal outbursts" it was becoming a bit of a problem. It was affecting his mood.

He'd damn near bitten Sam's head off last Tuesday for asking him to pass the salt at dinner. But like every bad situation there was one silver lining.

Instead of getting mad at him for being so pissy Dean had gone into mother hen mode over Cas, doing everything from stealing him candy and cigarettes to giving him the occasional kiss to cheer him.

And now Dean was taking him on a date that wasn't _really_ a date but totally was because they would just be hanging out together, they were going to the nearest town, Powell Boulevard, Portland, Oregon.

Castiel lifted his glasses and rubbed at his eyes as Dean herded him onto the bus with everyone else waiting patiently behind him. They'd just gotten paid and, to most of the boys anyway, their five dollars – in Castiel's case thirty since he hadn't filled in the "family" portion of his paperwork – was burning serious holes in their pockets.

Cas boarded the bus and took a seat at the back. Dean squished into the seat next to him, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Sam would be taking his girlfriend Jess to dinner and Gabriel, Benny, and Garth were going dancing.

Castiel let out a bored sigh and rested his head in his palm as he stared out the window at the hundreds of trees passing them by.

"What's wrong Cas?" Dean asked quietly next to the exited shouts of the other boys.

"I wish we could go on a real date like Sam and Jessica." The word 'date' slipped past his lips before he could stop it. He threw a glance at Dean, knowing that the man had a serious problem with anything having to do with his sexuality and, while he paused a moment, Dean took off his jacket and set it down so he could hold Cas' hand beneath it.

Castiel's heart swelled.

"Yea, me too Cas, but you know better than I do that we can't go in public, like you said, you've been doing this a long time" Dean's mouth turned up in a sneaky grin. "Lucky for you, I have the perfect remedy for just such a dilemma."

Before Cas could ask what exactly his plan was Sam turned around and leaned over the back of the seat where he sat with Gabriel.

"You guys headed to the club?" he asked quietly.

Dean nodded in affirmation, "Yea, it _was_ going to be a surprise until you opened your damn mouth."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Cas laughed as the brother stared each other down, "I've never been to a club before." He said excitedly.

Dean tore his attention away from his brother to bask in the glow of the joy on Castiel's face.

"Dude, you're gonna love it, there's music, and dancing, and booze."

Castiel quirked an eyebrow, "We aren't old enough to drink Dean."

"Not a problem," Sam interrupted, "our aunt Ellen and cousin Jo own the place. They'll give ya whatever ya want so long as you're with Dean."

_These guys have connections with everyone._ Castiel thought as he turned back to the window, he couldn't decide if that were a good thing or not.

Sam and Dean fell into conversation and eventually the busses slowed and Castiel could see the dance of city light close on the horizon. Portland, not a very big city but the closest one for miles with dance clubs and girls, most of the boys were looking for girls.

The lights danced, glinting off Castiel's glasses, they reminded him of New York, reminded him of home.

Castiel noticed the energy in the bus raise exponentially and the drivers yelled their displeasure as the busses finally slowed to a stop before a great stone dance hall. Two granite lions stood frozen in a fierce roar on either side of a short staircase leading to the doors. Men and women flooded in and out of the swinging doors constantly in their flouncy red dresses and shined up wing tip dancing shoes. Castiel even caught sight of a few richly adorned black Model Ts running up and down the street. They must be in uptown Portland. Cas smiled.

This definitely felt like home.

Suddenly their bus lurched to a complete stop and Cas felt Dean's hand loosen its grip on his as he began to stand and follow behind his brother in a line leading the length of the bus and out the door. He almost made a move to hang onto Dean, pull him into the middle of that grand dance hall and shake his ass off with another guy in front of everyone but, lucky for Dean who had a horrible habit of becoming embarrassed at the smallest gestures, Castiel realized that it might not actually be the best of ideas to do so.

He rose; grabbing the thin leather jacket Dean had left on the bench, and followed his cabinmates out into the cool night air.

Music blared out of the hall as the rowdy crowd of young men swayed along with it, pushing and shoving and very much not waiting their turn to get in. Cas might have gotten lost in the crowd had Dean not grabbed his wrist, tugging him off to the side.

"They won't even notice we're gone!" he shouted gleefully over the noise. As he pulled Cas to and fro weaving through the crowd Castiel found that Dean's mood was contagious. He howled and laughed along with his friend, high on the thought of being able to let go if only for one night and intoxicated by the freedom of having the whole of downtown Portland to themselves.

It was fun. Castiel leapt over a bike rack, yelling his joy to the heavens.

It was beautiful. He looked to the sky as he ran, in place of the stars twinkling in the cosmos he saw the flickering of brand new neon signs and light up billboards.

A musical laugh burst from his throat as he and Dean finally broke rank with the crowd and rushed into the night.

He was free.

Castiel collapsed against the cool brick wall of the backside of a small building to catch his breath. He raised a hand to his chest in hopes that the action would calm his raging heart. It would not. He chuckled past the fatigue and stickiness of sweat that caused his clothes to cling uncomfortably to his skin to catch a glimpse of Dean. The other boy was bent over and heaving, hands on his knees to keep himself upright and a shit-eating grin on his face.

They'd just full out sprinted from Powell Boulevard to South East Hawthorne.

After a long moment where nothing could be heard in the ally other than their ragged breathing Dean groaned and stood up, throwing his arms above his head and eliciting a sick'ning p-pop-pop! from his back.

"I take it you enjoyed that?" Castiel asked past the uncontrollable heaving of his lungs. Damn, he was still tired.

"Ain't nothin' like a good run." Dean said as he flashed Castiel a winning smile, "You better catch yer breath Cas, party's just started." He continued to grin and took a few steps past Castiel to the dumpster next to which he was collapsed.

Dean reached for Cas' hand, entwining their fingers before slipping behind the grimy green trash receptacle. Castiel almost asked Dean what the hell he was doing, but suddenly they were in a bar.

Well, more of a night club than a bar.

The entrance by which Dean had gained them access was behind the raised countertops to the right of the shelf of whiskey and behind the place's selection of beers so that no one would see them come in. the music pounding against Castiel's eardrums was different from the jazz pieces played at the dance hall, it was jerky and fast paced and the couples on the dance floor jumped and yelled and swung each other around haphazardly to the ragtime tunes.

The other thing that caught Castiel's eye was the couples themselves. His eyes damn near bugged out of his head when the two men in front of them sitting at the bar wrapped up in a passionate embrace and suddenly that guy's hand was down the front of the other guy's trousers and – hot damn what kind of place was this and why had Castiel never gone to one before?

He lurched forward when Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder; his glasses almost flew off his face.

"Welcome to Harville's, best damn bar this side a the Mississippi!" he beamed as he led Cas around to the patron's side of the counter and hailed a waitress. The woman was older with dark brunette hair and smile lines around her thin lips.

As soon as she saw Dean she halted her conversation with another customer, grabbed two beers from the shelf and scurried over.

"Hey Dean!" she hollered over the music as she pulled Dean into a massive bear hug right over the counter. The woman released him and smiled at Castiel before dropping the beers in front of them and rushing back to her post.

"Be back to chat with you boys 'n a moment." She called over her shoulder.

"That's Ellen," Dean said as he opened one bottle and slid it to Cas before opening his own. "She owns the place with her daughter, my cousin Joanna. Ellen bought this little hole in the wall when Jo and her girl Charlie decided there wasn't a safe place for 'em to hang out." Dean took a sip of his beer as Cas absently picked at the label of his own, favoring listening to Dean rather than drinking.

"Actually, Ellen's the reason Sam an' I came to Oregon to work, she was already dealin' with a bunch 'o backward teenagers here so what was two more?"

Castiel meant to say something to lighten the mood as Dean lost his excited buzz and stared down at the bottle in his hand. Some kind of date Cas was, letting the guy wallow in his self-pity right off the bat.

Dean looked up from his drink at Cas, ecstatic grin gracing his features once again.

"You wanna dance?" he asked with a childlike excitement in his voice. Cas couldn't say no.

He nodded as Dean slammed his bottle on the counter and leapt up. "Great!" he said and dragged Castiel to the very center of the floor where the music was the loudest. Castiel's eyes darted as he fought to dodge flying limbs from every side. Someone's sweaty arm rubbed up his leg. He shuddered. There were girls with girls and guys with guys everywhere and nobody thought it odd, he smiled at this.

Suddenly Castiel was aware of Dean's hands on his hips. He blanched.

He'd never been dancing before.

"Dean, I've –" he halted once he was aware that there was no way Dean would be able to hear him. It probably wasn't so all important that he was made aware that Castiel had never learned to dance; his parents had wanted him to at one point, seeing as how he would need to know for parties or whatever-the-hell, but he never really got around to it.

Fortunately his lack of skill did not play a part in the evening and if Dean had noticed Castiel's stiff motions he did not mention it, sweeping and leading Cas around by his hips, their eyes locked, ignoring the unseemliness of it and simply being enthralled in each other.

Castiel's eyes drooped slightly and he bit his lip to hold back a vicious yawn. It was late, he could ascertain that much, but couldn't for the life of him remember at what time they were to return to the busses. In any case Cas was sure that Bobby would make a special trip back into town to retrieve Dean if they were late.

By this time Dean had his forehead rested on Castiel's shoulder, and Cas' nose was pressed, almost uncomfortably, into his chest as they rocked back and forth on their feet. Now it was less of a dance and more of a long squirmy hug.

Castiel pulled on Dean's upper arm, effectively gaining his attention.

"You wanna get outta here?" Dean whispered hoarsely, with the slightest hint of a grin on his face.

Cas nodded and Dean dropped his arms from around Cas' waist to grab his hand and lead him in weaving through the crowd to the same back door by which they had gained entrance to Ellen's establishment.

Once the cold night air hit Castiel's skin the breath was knocked from his lungs, but for a reason other than the wind chill. Dean slammed their lips together; gripping Castiel by his shoulders and guiding him back flat against the brick wall. Cas shivered as Dean's tongue traced the seam of his lips, begging for entrance, as the older man's hand pulled at his shirt. Dean's hand slipped up beneath the garment, tracing the quivering muscles of his abdomen as his tongue darted past Castiel's lips, needing to taste him.

Cas moaned and leaned into Dean's touch, realizing just how much he had wanted to touch and be touched by Dean. His fists clenched in the back of Dean's shirt and he tugged, urging him on –

CLICK

Suddenly they both stopped. The metallic click of a hammer being pulled back pierced Castiel's eardrums and the lust that, moments ago, had consumed his body was replaced by debilitating fear.

He stared up at Dean's face as their eyes darted to the right together, slowly working out through their shared haze exactly what was happening.

For a moment they all just stood there, Cas pinned to the wall by Dean who had the barrel of a small gun pressed to his temple and Alistair, whose grip tightened around the trigger as he smiled.

"I fuckin' knew it." Alistair growled as he pressed the cool barrel of the gun flush to Dean's head, "Ya know, after I tell everyone what you two fags were doin' before you died they'll throw me a damn parade."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Dean said, hands still lodged half way up Castiel's shirt.

"Sure you don't," Alistair rolled his eyes and flicked the gun at the two of them, "give me your wallets, I could use some extra cash later." At the demand Dean stiffened. He never meant to spend his five dollars at the club since Ellen served him for free; he meant to send it home after the month's outing like he always did. His hands twitched towards his pocket when Castiel realized his unease.

The younger man delved his hand into his pocket and shoved the wallet at Alistair. "Take mine!" he shouted hurriedly, "All thirty's in there, just let Dean keep his!" thirty dollars and his I.D. and a check from his aunt that he'd gotten for Christmas was all he had.

Alistair glowered at Castiel a moment before snatching the billfold from his outstretched hand.

"The question now is…" Alistair said as he twisted his wrist, flicking his aim between Castiel's watering blue eyes and Dean's raging greens." Who to drop first? Four eyes, or mister Senior Leader Winchester?" his wrist stopped swiveling, aimed at Castiel's chest. Castiel squeaked and dug his fingers into Dean's arms. Alistair shrugged.

"I guess it really doesn't matter."

"NO!" Dean bellowed and Castiel's eyes clamped shut.

The explosion of gun powder rang through the air, unmuted. Castiel's hand flew to his own chest as he felt his body flung back but his fingers could locate no bullet wound wet with blood. He was still conscious, alive, Cas cracked his eyes open slowly to see that Dean had flipped their positions and turned them so that Dean's back was to Alistair. Terror gripped at Castiel's stomach as he raised his face to meet Dean's gaze.

"Dean –" he croaked, "y-you…"

"Are you okay Cas?" rather than answering Castiel peaked over the older man's shoulder to peer at Alistair. He gasped and tore himself from Dean's arms.

"Dean!" Castiel's wallet toppled from Alistair's hand as well as the gun as his eyes became blank and he dropped to his knees then fell prostrate on the ground.

Behind the fallen man stood Ellen, beer bottle in one hand, pistol raised in the other. She had pulled the trigger.

Alistair never got a shot off.

The boys stared at Ellen incredulously as she approached the body and held two fingers to his jugular. She clicked her tongue and stood, wiping some blood on her apron.

"You boys never came back to see me," she whispered, "Thought I might be able to catch up with ya."

Dean tore his eyes from the body, soft concern and terrified eyes pleading with Ellen, "What do we do?" he pulled Castiel tighter to him, trying to keep his eyes from the scene, "The police'll find out about yer bar if we talk, then –" he was unable to continue as his throat tightened up but Castiel recognized the very real fear in his lover's voice. They had to keep this hidden. Castiel began to methodically rub small circles in the small of Dean's back as he watched the pool of blood beneath Alistair grow and seep into the cracks in the concrete.

"Now you listen to me boys!" the authority in Ellen's voice caused Castiel to meet her gaze, "_He_ attacked _you_ and in no uncertain terms the other way 'round. . Be. Fine. I'll make damn sure of it."

Ellen's eyes blazed with the conviction of a mother's scorn as she spoke. "If I had a penny for every time I had to pull some narrow minded punk offa one a my kids I'd be richer than them space monkeys up in Washington." Her eyes softened, "if you need to talk, talk. I can handle the police on my own and fix up the bar, they won't know what hit 'em, but if you wanna keep it in," the corners of her mouth twitched upwards slightly, "I can make this thing disappear just like that" she snapped her fingers for emphasis.

"How?" Dean croaked. Ellen tilted her head.

"You think I married that damn fool Robert Singer 'cause his looks? Sure wasn't 'cause he's some fancy military reserve officer LEM for some summer camp you can bet your ass."

"Either way, I'm the one with blood on my hands," Ellen continued as she tucked her pistol under her skirt, "You two were just civilians caught in the middle, got that?"

Dean nodded his head vigorously in agreement but Castiel could only stare at Alistair's glazed eyes and the expression of pain ever frozen on his now waxen features. It was all too surreal.

Had he not bumped into him in line would Alistair still be alive?

Castiel squeaked as he was suddenly aware that Ellen was hugging them, murmuring to Dean what sounded like, "I promised yer daddy I'd take care of you and damnit boy if that ain't what I'm gonna do."

Then she and Dean were moving the body, careful not to get blood on themselves and he was just standing there. He should help, he was capable too but Castiel's feet refused to surrender and move. His body was cold. Oh God.

_We killed someone_

He began to shiver, tiny insignificant twitches as he watched Ellen and Dean hoist the body into the dumpster with Ellen whispering promises to be rid of it later. That shiver developed into a subtle shake as aunt and nephew used old bar rags to sop up the blood and bleach to get the rest. His hands made their way slowly to cradle his head as he shook uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face and mind reeling.

You murdered someone

A human life

You took it

SINNER!

Your whole LIFE has been thus

_why don't you just give up_

Castiel hardly registered the sensation of Dean's arms wrapping around his shoulders or hearing Ellen tell Dean to get Cas on home and nurse him outta that shock and most of all to keep his mouth shut.

Right. Try to stay silent, only talk to Dean – maybe Sam if Dean meant to tell him – but no one else.

Suddenly Castiel found himself on the bus squished between Sam and the window. Where was Dean?! He hadn't left him! He hadn't stayed with Ellen, right?!

Cas began to panic when Sam grabbed his arm, bringing him back to reality.

"Calm down Cas, Dean's sittin' right in front of you. I'm here 'cause I'm taller so the officers can't see you freakin' out."

Oh thank God. He told Sam.

Castiel nodded his head and took a deep breath, thanking Sam and calming himself down.

By the time Bobby boarded the bus with the mail call his only symptom was a mild case of hyperventilation.

Alistair.

Even thinking of his name caused Castiel's breath to quicken so he grabbed that name and shoved it down to the back of his mind.

"Novak!"

Castiel looked up to see Bobby handing him a parcel.

"Letter boy." The concern in his eyes told Cas that he already knew. Damn, Ellen moved fast.

Cas nodded and took it, glad to have something to occupy his mind, that is, until he caught a glimpse of the return address. He felt himself begin to shake again but forced it down for Sam's sake.

South East one twenty-second street New York, New York.

It was from his father.

Deciding that he'd had enough stress for one night Castiel folded the letter without reading it and reached to his pocket to put it in his wallet.

Panic flared through him as he realized his left pocket was empty. And the right one. Back pockets too. The bus lurched onto the street and away from downtown Portland as astute horror gripped Castiel's heart.

He'd left his wallet.


End file.
